


Cache Ta Vie

by Mira



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-09
Updated: 2007-06-09
Packaged: 2017-10-15 14:58:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mira/pseuds/Mira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cache Ta Vie: French for "hide your life."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cache Ta Vie

Sometimes Rodney visited him in his dreams. Not often enough, even though they were not happy dreams. Rodney would stand at the foot of John's bed staring down at him, his eyes bleak, his mouth grim. Exactly as he had the last time John saw him.

Rodney never spoke in John's dreams, which was just wrong: Rodney's mouth was always moving, his words tumbling out. The austere Rodney that John last saw before he, Ronon, and Teyla had disappeared along with all the Athosians was not the Rodney that John wished to remember.

He never dreamed of Elizabeth or Radek, though he missed them, too. Especially Elizabeth. He wondered if they'd joined Rodney, of if they were living on their own on some isolated planet. Maybe raising a family. He liked that idea.

They had been the last to leave. That had been intentional, John knew, because Radek had wiped out the Ancient's database of gate addresses. And the backup. And the backup to the backup. He'd even sent a virus to Earth, via the Daedalus, that upon arrival in the Milky Way ate its way through their database of addresses as well.

Now, only the few addresses the military would admit to recalling were available. Not many places to go, not many trading partners available anymore. Not many left in Atlantis who were interested in exploration and trade.

John could have gone with Rodney. That's why Rodney had come to him that last night, in the middle of the storm. Fearful of electronic eavesdroppers, Rodney hadn't said much. He'd already grown quiet; the increased military presence on Atlantis had seen to that.

When the first prisoners had been transported to Atlantis, Elizabeth had fought bitterly. No warning, of course; just the sudden appearance of nearly a hundred men and women. All dark-skinned, she pointed out viciously. "Atlantis as a black site prison?" she demanded of Caldwell.

"What happened to Thailand and Afghanistan?" John asked. "They get sick of being our bullies?"

Caldwell pointed at him. "Not one word more," he said. Rodney had stepped on John's foot at that moment, so he kept his mouth shut. Then and to the end, he kept his mouth shut.

Rodney saw the big picture first. The minute the prisoners were off-loaded and marched into Atlantis, funneled into parts of the city not housing scientists or the military, he knew. "Never to be seen again," he muttered to John as they watched. Initially, John didn't believe him. He couldn't believe his country would do this. Then, when he realized they were indeed doing this, it was too late. The small number of people remaining who would respond to his commands wouldn't stand a chance. Not with this many guards from Earth, none of whom knew or trusted him.

Smarter than anyone else in the galaxy, Rodney had instantly understood the significance. At first, he and John had held late night arguments. "I should have seen this coming," Rodney had berated himself. "Of course your government would ship them here. The Geneva Convention has never been heard of out here."

Once, he'd openly suggested they leave. "I won't leave my men," John had snapped.

"Then bring them!" Rodney snapped back, and for a moment John saw it all: a revolt -- no, a revolution, a velvet revolution, saving Atlantis from antiquated politics, creating a technocracy in which work and play would merge the way they had in his and Rodney's lives.

Then John saw, really saw Rodney: his misery and anger and fear. "You're really leaving," he'd breathed. Rodney stared at him, the way he now stared at him in John's dreams. But he never said another word, and then he was gone.

John's own force watched the changes in Atlantis sullenly, some of them disappearing onto the mainland, or slipping away on the few trading missions still being made. The social scientists tried to protest; after a few of them disappeared or fell victim to unfortunate accidents, all the scientists began to disappear. The people who'd first come to Atlantis gradually found essential off-world missions from which they never returned. Some of the military, the badge-heavy ones who hadn't liked working with scientists and civilians, enjoyed the new administration, but the men John had worked closest with also began to disappear. Lorne vanished with the botanists; Stackham with the engineers; Crown with a mixed bag of social scientists.

In the midst of a terrific cyclone, when all the people on the mainland had been moved to Atlantis for safety (much against the wishes of their new masters), in the middle of the night, the gateroom inexplicably locked, Rodney, Teyla, Ronon, and the Athosians vanished. Radek and his technicians had needed almost an hour to unlock the terrace doors, and of course, there was no way to trace where they'd all gone.

John was hurt they hadn't asked him again, but he supposed he had been pretty clear with Rodney that he wouldn't go. He kept working with his men, he worked with Caldwell to the best of his abilities, but eventually he understood that Caldwell was being watched as well.

Elizabeth had never asked him, nor had Radek. When he thought back, he wondered about certain glances, a few words, but he'd been focused on the loss of his team. On the loss of Rodney. Too focused on other things to pay attention to the impotence of Elizabeth's leadership. If he'd listened to Rodney, if he'd listened to himself -- but it was too late for that. He couldn't even take care of his men, the men he'd told Rodney he had to stay for.

The next time he woke to Rodney's grim face staring down at him, he climbed out of his sweaty bed, dressed as warmly as he could, grabbed his pack, and took the transporter to the jumper bay. The corridors echoed hollowly as he slipped through the back passages. Quiet, quiet, he thought, to himself and to Atlantis.

No one was in the jumper bay; at this time of night, he wasn't surprised. The current administration really wasn't interested in jumping through stargates; they depended on the Daedalus for food supplies and materiel. John hovered just outside the bay, watching and listening carefully, but the business of Atlantis now took place deep in its bowels, out of casual sight.

He took a deep breath, and moved quietly to his favorite jumper. When he boarded, he never looked back. He knew these jumpers better than he'd ever known any craft he'd ever flown; he loved them, the way they responded to him, sometimes before he knew what he wanted from them. Before he'd seated himself, the displays began to glow, the silent engines sprang to life. He punched in one of the addresses he had memorized, that of another stargate orbiting another planet. From there, he'd skip around, jumping through the galaxy until he was sure no one could follow.

In fact, he doubted if anyone wanted to follow.

Maybe he'd find a place to settle. Maybe he'd marry a nice girl and raise a family. Maybe he'd raise an army and take back Atlantis. Maybe he'd find friends.

Maybe he'd find Rodney.

The gate whooshed open, the wormhole rippling, the color bouncing off the walls of the gateroom. He imagined shouting, orders to return, but he heard nothing.

"Goodbye," he whispered to Atlantis. "Goodbye. Take care of yourself." The event horizon beckoned to him. The entire galaxy was out there, waiting for him.

Then he left, too.

  



End file.
